


Stubborn in the Face of Death

by olliolli_oxenfree



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, terron voice 'i welcome death but when it comes for me i'm gonna beat its ass'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 07:21:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18633478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olliolli_oxenfree/pseuds/olliolli_oxenfree
Summary: Some mild angst before they go looking for a cure.





	Stubborn in the Face of Death

“It’s getting worse.”

Oghren looked at the Commander and pushed away the rest of his meal. He wasn’t sure when, or why, the kid decided to come to him about his Calling, but he figured the least he could do was listen.

“The voices are...it’s never _quiet_ any more. A darkspawn nearly _ambushed_ me when we were in the Deep Roads. I felt it, but… I thought, the amount of corruption I felt, I thought it was one of _you._ ”

So, that had brought it on this time. Their little tunnel excursion that unearthed an entrance to the dwarven roads. Maybe not the event alone, but enough to bring everything to the forefront. Oghren took the Commander's countenance in as Terron rubbed at his brow to search for words. If they hadn’t known each other during the Blight Oghren wouldn’t be able to tell, but on top of being pinched from worry and lack of sleep Terron’s eyes had sunk into his features. The darkened veins everyone pretended they couldn’t see crept in and out of view beneath his collar.

“I’m just so _tired_ , Oghren.”

He gave the Commander a few moments and said, “Ready for that walk?”

He expected another sneer, the rebuttal that Terron had no idea Oghren feared the Deep Roads so. Not the silence that was more answer than spoken words.

A clamor arose on the other side of the hall, shouts fueled by booze _other_ wardens were allowed to drink.

“ _Enough_!” Terron snapped, loud enough to be heard through the entire dining area. "Control yourselves!" The room quieted at once save the few murmured _sorry, Commander_ ’s. Terron drew his fingers together to hold the bridge of his nose.

“Where you off t’?” Oghren asked as the Commander snatched up his cloak.

“Air.”

“Commander.” Terron stopped, fingers pressed to the table. “You decide to go, I'm with you.” Nails dragged along the grain as the Commander stepped away.

* * *

Terron set his cloak between his back and the stone of the keep, picking up the end to wrap around himself and over his head. In such a far-flung corner of the wall the grey of the fabric would hide him from anyone who happened to look around the odd angle to see the corner. Birdsong and the rising noon sun soon had him drifting into a much-needed doze after a restless night of staring at the ceiling.

“Ah, here you are.” Terron woke, lifting fabric with the back of his hand to look out at Zevran. “Shielding yourself from anything in particular?”

“Sun’s bright.”

“We could go inside?”

“S’warm.”

A laugh more golden than the fur of Hanal'ghilan answered his words. “Then, might I join you?”

Terron stuck his hand out, cloth falling across half his face as Zevran took hold and as best he could sat facing the opposite direction. Leaning his side against Terron’s, Zevran’s arm worked its way under the cloak to draw close and rest his head on Terron’s shoulder. The incessant buzzing pushed to the back of his skull, Terron nuzzled his husband’s hair to bury himself in the only warmth Ferelden had left.


End file.
